i'm beginning to fear that one of these days i might start walking backwards and not know it. my mind and motor are so out of sync it's like i'm harboring siamese twins who like to go on opposite directions. maybe that's why i haven't been writing in the past few weeks. i wouldn't even call it writer's block. at night, while on my way home, i'd be flooded with words and ideas on how to tell you my present situation but when i'm in front of the pc, fingers poised on the keyboard, i'd only find myself stuck in that space between "dear you" and the first word. recently my mind's like a signed-off tv station where you only get that spectrum of colors and a high-pitched monotone.

but as you can see, i have found some pieces of me but the rest are still scattered somewhere, maybe meandearing in the busy streets of morocco while some are swimming with dolphins in the pacific for all i know. and the one typing this pathetic excuse? she's still trying hard to remember to put one foot in front of the other and not the other way around.

but i'll be writing again soon, maybe about how my left eye suddenly squints on its own or how i would say that i write like this when i'm distraught. maybe it's the heat, maybe i just need a vacation. someday i know i'll retrieve some parts of me in corcovado.